On Air West
by Poli Almasy
Summary: Jin/Hwoarang yaoi, I've decided that its much tamer then a lot of things that pass for R and decided to repost it.


On Air West  
  
---  
  
Ok, don't read this if you're offended by yaoi, crossdressing, light  
bdsm, bondage pants, blood, disjointed writing, bad sex scenes umm,   
there was more, ah well.  
  
Also a few more notes, On Air West is a real livehouse in Shibuya, I   
haven't been there but I pieced together the description from several  
live reports as well as the On Air website. The band described is based  
off two real bands. The costumes are based off of a tiny little indies band  
I saw on some site, the band's um, actions is based off the slightly larger  
indies band Fatima.  
  
Yeah, the Tekken 4 plotline is out. Screw that for now. Also I don't like the  
direction Ling is going in for Tekken 4 at all -.- whatever.  
  
---  
  
Hwoarang noticed the slight blush on his companion's cheeks as he was  
led down the brightly lit streets of Tokyo's Shibuya district. While Jin  
had lived in Japan his entire life and spent his last few years in the heart  
of Tokyo he had never been much exposed to the outside world of the  
city. He was still very much an innocent about what life was supposed to  
be. That there was more to it then fighting, learning, training. As oblivious  
as Jin had been he was smart enough to realize he was being dragged  
through the 'love hotel' area of the city.  
  
It was odd how the two boys went from bloodthirsty rivals to content  
friends. Their rivalry was based on power and now there was little  
power to be consumed. It was an empty void both refused to fall into.  
The power was there for the taking after the defeat of the...fiend.  
There was no other way to describe the horrible creature that had   
nearly taken both of their lived. Well, it had taken part of it long ago.  
Raw power was now up for the taking, but no one lusted over it.  
There was no reason any of them needed it anymore.  
  
While the two were friends there were still some uneasy tensions  
between the two. Hwoarang figured it was just on his part and  
his slight attraction to the older boy. The way Hwoarang figured  
it being bisexual just doubled his dating chances. He tended to  
be more inclined to women but he would surely make an exception  
for the raven-haired demon.  
  
His shy innocence never seemed to be overshadowed by the monster  
everyone knew lurked within his body. That would forever be Jin Kazama's  
curse and he was the one who had to learn to live with it. Live with the   
notion he was a violent monster no better then his father. Hwoarang pushed  
back the reddish gold strands of hair that fell loosely onto his face as they   
walked together. He had come down here only once before with some  
girl from the tournament. Ended up she was eliminated in the first round  
and few people even learned her name. Come to think of it he couldn't  
remember it now. She had seemed like a normal, pretty little Japanese  
girl. Much to his surprise when he went to pick her up she was dressed  
in something that look fit for a eight year old girl, that was, if the eight  
year old had a bdsm fetish. She had dragged the Korean down to  
Shibuya just as he was now coaxing Jin along.  
  
Hwoarang insisted on dressing Jin for this occasion. He was not taking  
the boy to a glam thrash concert in his school uniform, that was for sure.  
He had to admit the moment he stepped into the nine hundred capacity  
On Air East livehouse he was thrown into a subculture where he felt very  
much at home. Well, not that he was a screaming teenaged Japanese   
girl. But watching the dolled up bands seduce the audience, or die trying,  
he realized the underlying perverseness to the whole scene. And everything  
was centered around fetish. From Victorian dolls to bondage whores,  
it mixed in an air of androgyny, everyone looked female but not so much  
that you couldn't image the male body under layers of makeup leather  
and lace.  
  
He wanted them to blend in as much as possible. It would have been  
nice if Jin's hair was longer but his masculine build ruled out him ever  
looking as feminine as the men on stage. Hwoarang however, had  
spent a great deal of time making himself less male, but no more  
female. He wore black leather bondage pants with crisscrossed  
straps that hung down to his knees and over that he wore a short  
red leather skirt. A black mesh t-shirt proved he was in fact very  
much male as you could see the little rosy colored sections at the  
location of his nipples. His least favorite part of the whole ordeal  
was the platform boots he wore. It had taken him a week to learn  
how to walk in the damn things. They were covered in straps and  
buckles. Light blue eye shadow was applied rather unevenly  
to his eyelids, but that's how he intended for it to look. He wore  
no other makeup, as odd as the previous garments had made him  
feel at first, he realized he felt good dressed like this. Not like he  
would go out and do this every night, but every once in awhile it  
was fun. Like being a kid again. His soft red hair fell freely to his  
shoulders.  
  
After more coaxing then Hwoarang wanted to remember he had  
gotten Jin into bondage pants as well, although his were simply  
black fabirc rather then leather. Finally, by telling Jin his father and  
grandfater would be fuming in hell if he wore them, Jin put them on.  
The straps were lightweight chains rather then fabric. They crossed in  
front then hooked onto the back of the pants. A simple white dress  
shirt and long black fabric coat was about all else mildly visual   
Hwoarang could get on the older boy. At least now they wouldn't  
stand out too much. Other then the fact they would be two attractive  
men in a room with screaming teenaged girls throwing themselves  
at boys would be more feminine then they could ever dream.  
Perfectly normal stuff, that was for sure.   
  
It wasn't as if Hwoarang just suddenly, became like this. Slowly  
over time he had become more and more dissatisfied with his current  
life. Slowly he had turned to other things to interest him. Sado-masochism  
was the first step. It was insane, hurting himself before going to fight   
someone who would hurt him anyway. At first it was a macho thing, he  
felt even injured to begin with he could beat them all. No one stood in  
his way under any circumstance and he had to prove it. As time went  
on it became, more sexual. He needed to feel pain. It was all he had  
really been exposed to both mentally and physically his entire life. He  
was just adapting to circumstance. Over and over he told himself that.  
But he knew it wasn't just adaptation. He was different. Different and  
perverse.  
  
Sharply his attention was distracted from his haze of thoughts to the  
neon sign of the AM/PM store. On Air East was on the other side of   
the street but they weren't going there tonight. The large red an white   
lettering on the side of On Air East's side made it stand out. No livehouse   
limited themselves to the glam acts, it would be impossible to pull in enough  
money. He wasn't even sure who was there tonight. Well, he didn't  
really know who was playing at On Air West either. His little date  
that one night explained to him that On Air West was the smaller  
livehouse across the street on the third floor of the building across  
the street. That must have meant it was above the convenience store.  
Sure enough he spotted the little lace covered headpiece of a   
gothic lolita girl. She was standing around giggling with a few other  
girls, most of them in the overly done childish gothic lolita look. A  
few were more aggressive looking in leather and metal accessories.  
Shows like this pulled in all types of people. There were going to be  
five or so bands from what he did know. Hwoarang hadn't bothered  
to buy tickets ahead of time so they would have to wait until everyone  
else entered plus they would have to pay more. But neither was really  
a problem seeing as Hwoarang wanted to stand in the back anyway  
and Jin was less then thrilled to be there. Lives like this started earlier  
and ended around ten before the trains stopped and the girls needed  
to be in bed and ready for school the next day.  
  
The two boys watched as a stream of schoolgirls walked into the building   
and up the stairs. Hwoarang noticed a pair of frail looking boys go in as  
well, their slender fingers intertwined. Cute. Had Hwoarang not been hell  
bent on attempting to seduce Jin he would have probably gone and played  
with them. A few loud foreign girls went in too. Laughing and poking at each  
other.  
  
In his broken Japanese Hwoarang managed to get the tickets. He should   
have let Jin actually order them but he was afraid the little boy might run  
off on him. His Japanese was decent. Still, he preferred English when talking  
to Jin, at least then they were both awkward. The other boy didn't speak a  
word of Korean so Hwoarang all but refused to use Japanese when talking  
to Jin. They both knew a decent amount of English so communication wasn't  
really an issue.  
  
"Come on, our turn."  
  
Hwoarang decided to grab the chains in the front of Jin's pants in a   
dangerously suggestive location and dragged the protesting boy to the door.  
The door was framed with a oddly shaped black 'w' and red and white lettering  
that matched that of the On Air East except it was a good deal smaller.  
When they were inside the building Hwoarang finally let go and headed up  
the stairs following the small mass of girls. Jin had little choice at this point to  
follow. When they reached the third floor Hwoarang once again had to start  
dragging his companion to the amusement of the girls around them.  
  
While On Air West was about a five hundred capacity livehouse there was  
only about two hundred or so people there. Ninety-eight percent must have  
been teenaged girls. Hwoarang pulled the Japanese boy to the back of the  
room, the last thing he wanted was to be swarmed with fangirls. Oh he had  
seen it happen. Last time at On Air East with the girl. Some band called Due   
le Quartz was playing, two very convincing male cosplayers had gotten mobbed,  
hell, the girl he came with took part.  
  
"So, you drag me here, now I can't even see what's going on?"  
  
Jin had been silent for most of the trip here other then constant whimpers of  
protest. Now with the sudden interest in speaking Hwoarang was a little off  
guard. He could stay in control as long as there weren't any verbal objections.  
  
The stage was rather large for such a small club. About thirty feet long and  
twenty five or so feet deep. The ceiling seemed to never come and there was  
a balcony, but no one was up there. An elaborate lighting grid was directly over  
the stage. It must take all types of technical training to work something that  
complicated.  
  
"I'd prefer not to get mobbed by the girls, mkay?"  
  
Jin just smiled, it was odd how his mood swings worked. One second he  
was a submissive child and the next he was that monster without actually  
growing the wings to prove it.  
  
"Of course, if they were little boys..."  
  
Hwoarang chose to ignore the remark. It was hard to defend your  
sexual preference while wearing a skirt and makeup. Of course, Hwoarang  
never dreamed of himself in this situation either. It was so, traditionally not  
him. Like he was walking in a daze and he'd wake up and be his macho   
self again. Secretly Hwoarang wished that would never happen. This didn't  
make him any less of a man then before. Did it?  
  
He couldn't help but stare at his hands. They were utterly male appendages.  
Perhaps, if he put on gloves of some sort, he could hide them, make the  
illusion more real. Quickly Hwoarang shrugged the idea off and focused   
on the stage. One act entered, the guitarists, bassist, and drummer were  
all in what looked like antique army suits. The sound was defining. The   
shorter of the two guitarists started playing out notes with expert precision  
while the other provided an underlying structure. They both had jet black  
hair as did the other members of the band currently on stage. None of   
them looked feminine at all, very clean cut boys other then a few stray   
pericings. An eyebrow here, two on the bassist's mouth under the painted  
lips. Other then the makeup, they were perfectly masculine. Not quite what  
Hwoarang had hoped for.   
  
When the vocalist took the stage it was a different issue. He had soft curly  
blond hair that fell loosely about his face, a china doll complexion and wore  
a torn, bloody wedding dress. A large gash across the waist revealing his  
flat stomach, half of the bottom torn off to expose his leg. Jin's mouth   
dropped open as the vocalist entered into the soft red lighting.  
  
"So you're telling me, that's a man?"  
  
Hwoarang smiled inwardly. Just the kind of reaction he wanted out of the  
Japanese boy. He led Jin in closer to the stage just beyond the crowd  
of screaming girls welcoming the opening act. Normally girls didn't get   
this excited for an opening act, it must have been a popular band.  
  
The music continued forward in a slow ballad type fashion, the vocalist  
singing with an innocence, a gentleness. Suddenly the song took off  
violently and the vocalist began to scream as if in pain. He flailed onto  
one of the amps and the larger of the two guitarist hovered over him.  
The vocalist was laying with his stomach on the amp, the other man  
swung his deep blue guitar over to his back and gripped the vocalist's  
hips. He made slow thrusting motions as the vocalist continued to scream  
into his handheld mic. As the guitarist's speed increased the screams from  
the vocalist became sexual moans. No wonder the girls had been so  
excited over the band. Hwoarang looked over to Jin in waiting for   
a reaction. His mouth was slightly agape looking at the scene in front  
of him. Never would Jin have imagined this. He thought it was just  
the cross dressing issue, but this, this was too much. Forcefully he made  
his way towards the exit ignoring Hwoarang's voice calling behind  
him.  
  
When he was finally outside in the cold crisp air Jin realized he had  
no idea which direction they had come from or how to get back home.  
Hell, he didn't have enough common sense to find a cab. He knew nothing  
of the 'outside world.' Hwoarang had been totally right about him  
being sheltered and innocent.  
  
"Jin, wait!"  
  
He had little choice but to face the young Korean. It was true, he was  
helpless.   
  
"Listen, Jin, I'm sorry. I didn't realize the band was going to do that."  
  
Slowly Hwoarang gripped Jin's wrist to avoid him running away again.  
No matter how much Hwoarang wanted Jin to like the stage show there  
was nothing he could really do to change the demon's mind. He wanted  
to find that same personality flaw in another human. And as screwed up  
as Jin had seemed, Hwoarang had hoped that maybe, the other boy  
was like him. He knew full well that fanservice got that graphic. In fact  
it was much better then he had hoped for. But now he realized there was  
no way to bring out the feelings he had hoped were in Jin, because you  
can't bring out something that isn't there.  
  
All the control Hwoarang believed he had melted from his mind. He was  
weak, weak. Fucking weak, this was his punishment. He'd never be good   
enough never good enough never never never. He'd always be weird.  
People would never notice this other side to him. The one he though he  
could ignore. He could push it away and never see it again. But again   
and again, it would come back. And he would just be weak in the morning.  
He wanted to be in control every time with a man. And he would fool   
himself into thinking he was in control. But then every single fucking time  
he would be staring at the ceiling as someone else dominated him.  
  
How could he lie to himself now? He had taken a chance this time. He  
had shown Jin who he was. Now he was being rejected. Again and  
again he would lose. Forcefully, violently he pushed Jin against the   
brick wall and pressed his lips to the other's. Jin let a muffled noise  
of surprise and pulled Hwoarang away from his body. Whimpering  
the red haired boy collapsed to the concrete sidewalk. In blind rage  
he stood up and ran to the brick wall, scraping the thin flesh of his  
inner arms against the rough surface. Small dark pools of blood  
formed in a thousand places along his arms, shredding his shirt and  
flesh.   
  
Jin was still in utter shock and the sight of his friend raking his arms  
along the sandpaper like surface scared him.  
  
"Hwoarang, stop! Stop! I'll do whatever you want if you just stop!"  
  
Tears stung at the edges of Jin's dark eyes. He now held both of   
Hwoarang's wrists in his strong hands. Blood trickled down onto his  
pale hands, staining the black coat the other boy had dressed him  
in not an hour ago.  
  
"Do you want to know what I fucking want?"  
  
Hwoarang was cursing and sobbing like an eleven year old who  
uses every opportunity to use the new 'bad words' he has recently  
compiled into his vocabulary.  
  
"I want you to fucking lick my wounds, I want you to make me weaker  
then I already know I am."  
  
His voice was becoming harsh and weak from the screaming. People  
directed their attention to the screaming boy but after a moment or  
two continued on never to give another thought to it.   
  
Softly Jin raised Hwoarang's left arm. He was forced to drop the right  
in order to push back the tattered shards of the mesh sleeve on the left.  
Hwoarang let his arm hang limply. Jin brought his lips to the tender   
burning flesh of the other boy's. Carefully he ran his tongue over the  
open wounds. The metallic tinge of the blood in his mouth was oddly  
pleasant. Madly he lapped at the blood collecting against the pale  
skin. Hwoarang let his back rest against the brick. Through the thin  
fabirc of his shirt he could feel the small darts pressing into his back.  
When Jin directed his attention to the other arm Hwoarang again  
attempted to bring their lips together, to taste his own blood mingled  
with the saliva of his one time rival. It was only a brief moment before  
Jin broke away once again realizing his previous actions.  
  
He felt sick to his stomach. This was unnatural to Jin. Unnatural, wrong,  
terrifying, tempting. All he knew was whatever his body and his mind  
were fighting over it couldn't happen there under the glaring eyes of  
passersby.  
  
"Hwoarang, I need to get home. Now, and I want you to come with  
me..."  
  
His voice trailed off but was just loud enough for Hwoarang to hear.  
He brushed his hair back a bit and pulled down the bloodied sleeves  
of his shirt. It would be nearly three blocks to the train station and   
Jin didn't want it to take that long. He didn't want Hwoarang's blood  
dripping down to the pavement while they walked. Distracted by the  
obvious blood stains on Hwoarang's shirt Jin placed his black coat onto  
the surprisingly thin frame of the other. Not so much thin as slender,  
muscular. But with the feminine attire Hwoarang did look gaunt.  
  
Quickly the two made it down the streets towards the train station.  
Hwoarang's pace slowed and Jin realized the wounds were seeping  
blood through the fabric of the coat. As he pulled the coat off Jin   
noticed that the flesh wasn't just marked by the needle sized points  
but the flesh had been torn apart. Old wounds reopened, not quite  
battle wounds but more precisely inflicted scars.  
  
Hwoarang felt limp and once again slid to the pavement. There was  
no other choice, they wouldn't be able to make it back to Jin's apartment.  
Like a parent would carry a sick child Jin picked up Hwoarang, he   
seemed somehow lighter. Rather then go into one of the cheesy looking  
love hotels Jin looked for something a little more upscale with no avail.  
Of course Jin had his cell phone. But it was a question of who there was  
to call. Finally he turned the small object on and pushed in the numbers.  
  
Just the number of someone who had worked for his Grandfather and  
consequently now worked for him, in a way Jin supposed. He realized  
he would have to explain his state of dress, and even worse the   
condition of his friend. Hwoarang lay in a half dazed half dead state  
against the pale grey wall of a nearby building. Jin had to stand near  
the road in order to spot the car he knew would be there in a matter of   
minutes. However he couldn't help but keep staring back at his friend.  
  
It was only ten minutes or so before the car arrived. Carefully Jin once  
again took the Korean in his muscular arms and laid him down in the  
back of the black sports car. Now that he thought about it he didn't  
even know the name of the man who had come to get him. A slight blush  
took to his cheeks as he realized how suggestive the two boys probably  
looked.  
  
Oddly the man with his neatly cut hair and suit did not question Jin about  
what he had been out doing or with whom. He simply got back into the  
drivers seat while Jin sat in the passenger's side. No words were exchanged  
and the car was silent other then Hwoarang's hard but stable breath.  
It seemed like an eternity in that car before the reached the upscale  
apartment building that Jin now lived in. He had refused to live in his  
grandfather's large home. Sheepishly Jin opened the backdoor to the  
car and helped his friend out. Hwoarang seemed a little more together  
now and was able to stand a little but still required Jin's support. Jin  
didn't want to draw any more attention to themselves. The last thing  
he needed was for this to show up on the front page of some seedy  
newspaper.   
  
They made their way across the grey marble floor to the brass colored  
elevator doors. Hwoarang still didn't have the energy to complete an  
entire word and simply chose to hang off of Jin's shoulder. Jin ended  
up having to place a hand on the other's waist to keep him upright.  
Unfortunately, a small demure girl was also waiting for the elevator.  
Jin recognized her as a girl who lived in the building. Her jet black hair  
was pulled back and oddly she was still in her school uniform. He had  
talked to her a few times before, her name was Kana.  
  
"Hello, Kazama-san."  
  
She smiled politely undisturbed by the bloody male form latched onto  
the person she was addressing. Jin felt obligated to return the gesture.  
  
"Hey, Kana-chan"  
  
Jin had always been informal with the young girl who was about fifteen  
or so. She seemed relieved that she received an answer from the older  
boy.  
  
"What happened? Did you two get in a fight again?"  
  
That was right, Kana had met Hwoarang before. Hwoarang came over  
to Jin's apartment every once in awhile in the few weeks that followed   
the tournament. The two of them seemed to hit it off the one time the girl  
and the Korean had met.  
  
"Wait....why is he wearing a skirt?"  
  
Her eyes then lingered over Jin's unusual clothing and she noted the   
eye shadow Hwoarang seemed to be wearing. He was too out of  
it at this point to notice the girl looking him over and the red head's  
attention seemed far off. Perhaps too far.  
  
"Ummm..."  
  
Dumb response.  
  
"Did you two go to a visual kei live?"  
  
Her eyes lit up. Jin was a little confused at the situation before him.  
The elevator reached the ground floor and he let Kana into the lift  
first. After pushing their respective buttons, six and ten, Kana's attention  
again focused on Jin."  
  
"So did you? Of course you did! There's no where else anyone would  
go dressed like that!"  
  
A soft childish giggle escaped her thin lips.   
  
"I've always wanted to go see what one is like. My parents won't   
let me. Oh well, maybe when I'm older. At least they let me go  
to other shows. They don't think I'm mature enough to go to a visual  
live. Do you think I'm mature enough?"  
  
Kana looked at Jin with a pleading look. Like somehow magically  
if he said it was alright her parents would drop their hesitations and  
let her go.  
  
"I don't think I was mature enough for that."  
  
Her excited face dropped a little as the elevator reached her floor.  
Childish hopes crushed! Ah well, she'd get over it.  
  
"Well, I'll see you later Kazama-san!"  
  
Hwoarang still seemed somewhere between dead and unconscious.  
Although, Jin had to admit he had no idea what to do with him once  
they reached his apartment. Clean the wounds of course, dress them,  
he was good enough at doing things like that. But afterwards he  
was clueless.  
  
"Mmmhh Jin-kun."  
  
The taller boy felt Hwoarang's face push into his arm as he slowly  
regained consciousness. When they had reached the correct floor  
Jin half dragged Hwoarang out of the elevator and down the  
all to his lavish apartment. He fiddled in his pockets for the keys  
for a moment before finally finding them. There were two keys  
on the ring. One for the apartment and one master key for the  
office building his grandfather had owned, he owned, whatever.  
Once the door was opened Jin moved Hwoarang to the couch  
and left the room to look for something to dress the wound.  
  
Hwoarang was finally coming back into reality and managed  
to sit up on the moderately sized white couch despite the throbbing  
pain in his arms. A sudden realization he was probably bleeding  
all over Jin's nice white couch brought a pang of guilt to the young  
man's features. This was defiantly not what the original plan had  
been.  
  
It was a few minutes until Jin would return with a bottle of rubbing  
alcohol and some gauze. Trying to apply as little pressure as   
possibly he cleaned the raw wounds then slowly wrapped both of  
Hwoarang's arms in soft white bandages.  
  
"I still would have liked it better if you had licked them clean."  
  
A sarcastic smile crossed Hwoarang's paled lips. Yet, there was a  
hint of truth in the seemingly joking words.  
  
"At least you're feeling better."  
  
Jin let out a sigh of relief. The bleeding seemed to have stopped  
awhile ago and now that the wounds were disinfected and covered  
there was less of a chance for infection. Hwoarang still lay on the   
couch and probably would be unable to stand but he seemed to have  
little problem sitting up. Sitting half on the couch Jin looked at his   
friend with somewhat adoring eyes. He had to admit, the eye shadow  
made Hwoarang's face more feminine and attractive. Forcefully  
he tried to push those ideas back. It was one thing to look female  
and another thing to be female. Hwoarang wasn't female in any  
sense of the word. His personality was probably more masculine  
then Jin's. Being raised without a father did have it side effects.  
  
It would be lying to say Jin had never been attracted to another  
man before. But that didn't mean that anything would ever come of it.  
He had never had a real desire to act on any of those mild, purely   
physical attractions. But the way Hwoarang was looking back at him  
now from underneath soft red strands of hair and pale eye shadow.  
He wanted to act on it. He wanted to but maintained the control to  
deny those feelings.   
  
"Jin, could I perhaps have some alcohol of a different type? It would  
dull the pain you know."  
  
Hwoarang knew full well Jin would never keep alcohol in his apartment  
but made the statement rather to try to regain some of the control he  
had lost. He had to admit it was somewhat of a game. Placing his words  
carefully, watching his motions, adjusting to the mood of the other boy.  
It was an elaborate game for power. But there was more to it then that.  
Hwoarang had for the longest time, since that first day the two had  
dueled, started to develop a genuine attraction to Jin. No one else  
could match the Korean, he had met his match and he never wanted to  
lose him. He suffered from a mild superiority complex and Jin was what  
he needed to stay grounded. Mentally they were both complete wrecks.  
Normally one doesn't go from Mr. Macho, to wearing a leather skirt  
and makeup. That's not the direction life gently takes you in.  
  
Funny, had one of them was actually born female, this wouldn't have  
been an issue. Hwoarang knew that Jin must have harbored some sort  
of feeling for him if he went through all this trouble. And it was more then  
friendship. Jin wasn't disgusted with the actions Hwoarang had taken  
earlier that evening, rather he seemed to be thinking about what direction  
to head in next. This question placed them both in an unusual position.  
  
"Hwoarang....I...."  
  
Hwoarang concentrated intently on Jin's soft words. Searching for an emotion,  
a meaning.  
  
"I...I'm sorry about what happened..."  
  
This however, was the last thing Hwoarang expected. 'I'm sorry.' He was  
the one who had thrown Jin into something unnatural to him, he had been the  
one to show the pure oddity that consumed his mind. This was all supposed to  
be his fault. But now his innocent friend was taking the blame for his own rash  
action.  
  
"It's not your fault. I shouldn't have taken you, I don't know what I was thinking."  
  
Jin's face showed no sign of traceable emotion. His voice however was pained,  
wanting, scared. Jin had become an expert at hiding what he was feeling.   
Feelings were for the weak. Feelings got him struck by his grandfather, he was  
being weak.  
  
"I overreacted."  
  
With that Jin stood up and went into his bedroom. He just wanted to get those  
clothes off. It felt like he was walking around as someone else. Hwoarang felt  
like someone else in his clothes as well. But that was the feeling he was searching  
for. To be someone else. Someone who wouldn't have to think about fighting,  
about everything he had lost.  
  
Jin undressed himself and put on a pair of loose fitting black shorts and a white  
t-shirt. He was happy he managed to convince Hwoarang makeup would add  
nothing to his appearance. This was still all too weird. Far too weird.  
  
He walked back into the other room with a blanket to give Hwoarang. It would  
be best if Hwoarang stayed there overnight instead of going back to the dirty  
apartment he rented while still in Japan. He might try something, stupid, again.  
Jin lay the blanket over the weak form in front of him and turned to go back  
to his own room. He felt a little guilty for leaving Hwoarang alone but the other  
made no sign of protest towards his actions and seemed quite content just lying  
there.  
  
"I'm going to try this again one day, Kazama. And next time you'll think   
differently."  
  
Something told Jin not to look back to acknowlage the voice. Just to keep on  
walking to his room and go to bed. Ignore the voice ignore it ignore it.  
  
Of course, he ignored the voice in his head over the voice of his injured friend  
and turned his head. Hwoarang's eyes were half closed while looking towards  
Jin.  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"Just I'm not giving up on you, I care about you too much."  
  
Hwoarang turned his head away so it was facing the back of the couch and   
his gaze was directed away from the boy which he was speaking to. An  
elaborate game that would never quite have a true winner. Vicious sadistic  
game.   
  
"Come on, Jin, you know what happens now. You jump me, dominate me,  
and we have wild passionate sex right now. Without question, without   
reason, because it just feels damn right. Isn't that how all these stories  
end?"  
  
"What kind of freaking drugs are you on?"  
  
Hwoarang burst out in wild laughter. Almost insane. Still, it was somewhat  
comforting.  
  
"I have no idea. Some sort of strange strange adrenaline rush from all the  
bleeding I suppose."  
  
Jin couldn't help but laugh shyly as well. Even in the most bizarre situations  
a human is still just that, a human.  
  
"You shouldn't get hyperactive when there's no blood in your damn body."  
  
This time Jin let a genuine smile cross his lips. Whatever weird trance his  
friend had been in he seemed to be over it now.   
  
"I know, I know, but hey, when you're bleeding on the battle field  
something just kicks in in time for you to win, right?"  
  
Hwoarang still looked pale and somewhat weak but at least there  
seemed to be life still left in him. He lifted one of his gauze covered  
arms to pull some of his hair away from his face.  
  
"Yes, I suppose so. And you look like a fucking queer with that makeup  
you know."  
  
"Oh but you see, I am. That's the beauty in it. And don't deny you liked  
licking my arms fag."  
  
"So what if I did?"  
  
Amazing, simply fucking amazing. They could talk about this like it was   
nothing more then a joke. Inside it was ripping them apart. Both knowing  
something still wasn't quite right between them. Something had never  
been right between them.  
  
"You don't by any chance have a medical fetish, now do you?"  
  
Hwoarang tried to put out his most submissive sounding voice hand  
held out is bandaged covered arms in an uncharacteristically feminine  
manner while his face still refused to meet that of the other boy. Both  
were laughing.  
  
An unexpected weight hovered over Hwoarang's body and he noticed  
Jin's hand next to him. Cautiously he shifted his body so he was staring  
straight in the face of the larger boy above him. Their lips met, briefly,  
gently. Hwoarang wanted to reach up and touch the other boy lightly  
but held himself back while returning the kiss.   
  
"Well, goodnight Hwoarang-kun."  
  
With that Jin again left the room in favor of his own, leaving Hwoarang  
once again very alone, and very confused. In retaliation he slowly attempted  
to stand and surely enough he could walk. Not very fast mind you, but it was  
better then nothing. The now lopsided Korean made his way into Jin's bedroom  
where the other boy was still very much awake. He stood in the doorway just  
within Jin's line of vision. Jin's eyes met his and they were locked in a state of  
mutual defiance. Neither one really wanted to give in to the other one. Jin  
wanted to hold back and Hwoarang would have jumped him right there had  
the dull, still throbbing pain in his arm not have been there.  
  
"What do you really want from me..."  
  
Jin was beginning to cave in. Slowly, but it was happening.  
  
"Just, could I sleep in here tonight."  
  
Hwoarang knew how to play on the emotions of others. So far tonight had not  
been his best performance. He was making some sort of progress though, he  
was sure of it.  
  
Jin lifted up the blanket that covered him as a gesture of submission to his friend's  
wishes. Quickly, before Jin had a chance to change his mind Hwoarang took a   
place in the bed next to Jin. He felt an arm wrap around his still leather clad  
waist and the heat of the other boy's body against his own. It was getting too  
hot under Jin's soft comforter.  
  
"Mmhm, Jin-kun, I'm hot."  
  
"That you are.."  
  
He was already half asleep and probably couldn't even tell what he was saying  
to the already aggressive man in his arms. Hwoarang managed to slip from Jin's  
grasp without waking him and stood up besides the bed. He dropped his skirt  
and pants to the floor and took off his shirt which was caked in dried blood. Again  
he mentally scolded himself as he noticed red spots where his sleeves had touched  
Jin's white sheets. He crawled back into his former position and draped Jin's arm  
once again over him but this time bare flesh came in contact. Jin's arm was surprisingly  
cold, odd since Hwoarang had been the one to bleed half to death with self inflicted  
wounds.  
  
Soft kisses landed on Hwoarang's warm exposed neck. He felt Jin's tongue slide along  
the skin between his neck and shoulders. A small shudder caught his body as he felt  
the arm around his waist tighten. It felt so good. Jin lightly traced patterns in the  
flesh of his stomach. His muscles started to contract at the stimulation.   
  
"Is this what you wanted from me, Hwoarang-kun?"  
  
The voice that greeted him was distinctly awake. Perhaps then Jin was playing with him  
as much as he had been playing with Jin. Hwoarang could do little more then let out   
a moan of approval. Suddenly the ministrations stopped.  
  
"Mmh, Hwoarang-kun, turn this way."  
  
He was more then obedient and Jin allowed him to turn so they were now facing each  
other in bed. Jin allowed himself to trace along the edge of Hwoarang's nipple causing  
a sharp intake of breath from the owner. Staring into Jin's now quite awake eyes  
Hwoarang searched for a trace of malicious intent and found nothing but admiration.  
  
"What made you change your mind?"  
  
"Simple answer is I got horny."  
  
Both boys laughed again. Surreal, the night had been so surreal and unnatural.  
  
"Actually I was thinking,"  
  
His attention now diverted to the other nipple.  
  
"About me?"  
  
Hwoarang took in another gasp of air as Jin pinched down on the nub.  
  
"Did that hurt?"  
  
"Yes, do it again."  
  
Instead of following orders Jin moved Hwoarang onto his back and for the second  
time that night hovered over the other boy. The traces of eye shadow still hung on  
Hwoarang's heavy lids. This time he brought his lips to contact with skin. He trailed  
his way down to the elastic of Hwoarang's boxers unsure of the action he should  
take once he reached his destination.  
  
"Well, I have to tell you Hwoarang-kun."  
  
He sat straddling Hwoarang's thin but powerful legs. Hwoarang could see the other  
boy's growing erection through the thin fabric of his pants.  
  
"I'm completely clueless about what I do now."  
  
Hwoarang smiled at Jin's current state of confusion and made a motion that could be  
directly interpreted as 'roll over.' After moving over Jin, Hwoarang again made a  
motion that was more difficult to decipher.  
  
"Could you just tell me what you want me to do?"  
  
"Take of the shirt you moron."  
  
Jin willfully obeyed as Hwoarang lowered his head to his chest. There were a few  
things Hwoarang was exceptionally good at, sex was one of them. After playfully  
teasing Jin for several minutes with his tongue he decided it was best if he didn't   
use his arms for the sake of retaining some blood in his body.  
  
"Now, off with the shorts."  
  
A light blush came to Jin's cheeks. The idea of being completely exposed and   
vulnerable was not a welcome one. Hwoarang gave him a look that was halfway  
between evil and playful. Jin needed no more coaxing after that and almost  
shyly pulled off his shorts. As if to reassure him Hwoarang again placed his moist  
lips to Jin's. Before doing anything else he licked his own fingers for several   
seconds as if to taunt Jin. Afterwards he brought his pale but warm lips to the  
tip of Jin's erection. His motions were painfully slow and unquestionably talented.  
Jin's body shuddered slightly as Hwoarang's fingers began to probe him. The  
boy's lips withdrew for a moment.  
  
"Don't thrust Jin, please..."  
  
His voice was submissive but powerful. It was a request but not an order. Jin  
tried to hold back as Hwoarang's mouth enveloped him again with its careful  
motions. Hwoarang's tongue ran against him in a slow deliberate motion that  
matched the gentle probing. He felt Hwoarang brush against something inside  
him and he couldn't control his body any longer as he thrust against the fingers.  
In shock Hwoarang bit down slightly in an attempt to scream against the once  
again desperate pain in his arm. Pride got the best of him and he allowed  
Jin's body to impale itself onto his fingers. He tried to keep the pace he had  
started but Jin was no longer in control and he thrust deeper then the slightly  
younger boy was ready for and he began to choke. Sharply he pulled off  
to attempt to regain his composure. Jin's face became frustrated and his eyes  
were hazy. Hwoarang again lowered his lips but this time kept his arms  
a good distance away. He allowed Jin to thrust into his awaiting mouth. He   
could feel as Jin's muscles tightened and tried his best to prepare himself.  
Jin's body shook violently as he came. It had been too long since Hwoarang  
had been with a man and he wasn't quite prepared enough and once  
again began to cough in desperation to clear his windpipe, things were  
not going well, rather then a smooth seduction the night was ending in confused  
motions.  
  
After a good deal of coughing Hwoarang finally settled down in the bed next  
to Jin. His body felt somehow warmer although the half demon's black eyes   
were distant. His arms hurt far too much to attempt to relieve his own painful  
erection and he couldn't bear to make Jin go through anything else tonight.  
Hwoarang's warm eyes fluttered closed until he felt a cool hand slip under his  
shorts and grip around his erection.  
  
"Jin...no...you don't...no."  
  
"Would you just shut up? I'm going to feel awful in the morning if I don't  
do this."  
  
Hwoarang made a muffled sound in protest. He didn't want to protest,  
rather he felt he was supposed to.  
  
"Just remember, I like pain."  
  
A slight nod of the head acknowledged Hwoarang's request. Jin's hands  
began roughly move against him. It felt somehow different then Hwoarang  
had expected. Not different bad, nor necessarily different good, just different.  
Exercising more self control then Jin had, he slowly began to meet the pace  
the other boy had set.  
  
"Hurt me, please, make it hurt."  
  
The words escaped as soft whimpers. This was something Hwoarang had  
grown to need. He needed it to feel complete, to feel satisfied.   
  
"What should I do to make it hurt?"  
  
Despite the tiredness in Jin's voice his eyes were still very much awake.  
His eyes drifted over the form that lay before him. Every perfectly toned  
muscle, perfected limbs. Everything they had both been disciplined for.  
Strangely it was like they were betraying all of that now. Odd.  
  
"Nails, ahh, use your nails."  
  
Hwoarang's body was begging for release. Thoroughly convinced that none  
of the objects that he would enjoy used on his body would be found   
anywhere in Jin's immaculate apartment he would have to settle for sharp  
scratches.  
  
"I-I, I can't, I'm sorry..I..."  
  
Jin quickened the pace of his hand as a silent apology for not being able  
to give Hwoarang exactly what he had wanted. Hwoarang's arms lay  
limply by his sides. There was nothing he could do to fill the perverse   
void Jin was leaving. Still, it wasn't long until he came. There were no  
fireworks, no stars in front of his eyes, none of that stereotypical bullshit  
people would come to suspect. It was more of a placid silence. He was  
content but little more. Sexual activity with Jin had been anything but  
mind-blowing, besides the fact Hwoarang had nearly choked to death  
twice and had little to no use of his hands. But they were both content.  
Content enough to lay sleeping with only a slight distance between their  
bodies. However, they didn't make contact at any point. No one slept  
in the other's arms.  
  
When Jin woke up in the morning he was quite cold and realized  
Hwoarang had managed to curl the blanket around himself leaving  
Jin completely exposed and rather embarrassed.  
  
"Now, Jin-kun, isn't this how I told you it would end?" 


End file.
